


Remember Together

by christinesangel100



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: drabble for barricade day, genderfluid Eponine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinesangel100/pseuds/christinesangel100
Summary: In a Modern world, where they all remember the lives before, June 5th is a day they like to spend together. After all, none of them want to grieve alone.





	Remember Together

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to publish something for Barricade day, and as all of the fics I'm currently working on, even though several of them are oneshots, seem to be taking far too long to write, I decided to attempt a drabble where the group remember the barricades but are all close. I'm not sure how well it works, and I haven't had any one to beta read, but hopefully it's alright. Let me know if you notice any mistakes.

Grantaire stood outside the café Musichetta had named ‘Musain’, hesitating. It was always difficult, today of all days. His friends would be waiting, and he couldn’t hide. They would only worry, or come and find him.  
After all, hiding away on the anniversary of your death tends to worry those who died with you, just in case you’ve gone and died again.  
The others would be waiting. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to push open the door. As always, he turned the sign to ‘closed’ as he did so. Musichetta wouldn’t be accepting any more customers now. This was their time to grieve. He was almost always the last to arrive, so closing the café had become his responsibility. 

He headed in, noting that as usual Musichetta had managed to clear out all the customers but one. She saw him, and headed over to the last customer. 

“We’re closing, you’re going to have to leave.” She said, and the customer grumbled but left. Musichetta made quite an imposing figure, and regulars knew that what she said went at this café.  
He walked over. 

“Everyone else upstairs?” He asked. She nodded.  
“They’re already up there, arranging themselves with the bean bags.” 

He’d expected as much. Musichetta started loading food and bottles of drink on to a tray, to delay as much as possible the time before one of them would have to come down for more supplies. They all brought things with them, as well, but the stuff from the café was always preferred.  
She handed him a tray, and he headed towards the stairs. 

He could hear the noise from them before he opened the door. Bahorel’s loud voice was easy to hear as he talked about some event Grantaire wasn’t sure of. He didn’t let himself hesitate this time. It was easier, knowing his friends would be directly on the other side of the door. 

As he entered, Enjolras looked up immediately, and his face lit up at the sight. The blonde stood up, hurrying over to help Grantaire with his tray.  
“R! We were worried you’d be late.” He said, reprovingly. 

Grantaire tried to fake a smile. “Well, I’ve always been good at that.”  
Enjolras frowned. They were all used to how melancholy Grantaire got around this time. Before anymore could be said, Enjolras was dragging Grantaire over to the pile of bean bags the others were sitting on in front of the television. Musichetta had invested in the bean bags when they’d all found each other again, knowing it would be easier than buying enough chairs for everyone in a lounge. The bean bags were multi-coloured and comfortable. Enjolras pulled Grantaire into the pile, luckily not on top of any of the others. 

Eponine was sitting with their siblings nearby, and offered him a smile. He knew he wasn’t the only one affected. Eponine’s eyes were almost constantly fixed on their brother, as if they might lose him somehow. Gavroche put up Eponine keeping all of them close, the 5 Thernadier siblings all together in a selection of bean bags. They weren’t separate from the others, but in the middle. 

Cosette sat beside her, an arm around her shoulder in comfort. The first time around, Cosette had only known Marius, and though she’d known Eponine as a child, she hadn’t remembered them, and had only learnt of their death through Marius talking about his grief. Now, the relationship between them was quite different. Marius was nearby, of course – a lifetime together meant that no matter what, he and Cosette would always be close.  
Courfeyrac was sprawled out, talking animatedly with Bahorel about some sort of fight the latter had been in.  
Combeferre was talking to Jehan, who seemed to be reading out a poem they’d written. Joly and Bossuet were grinning, talking about something Grantaire couldn’t hear. Judging by Bossuet’s laughs, it involved puns. Feuilly was switching between conversations. 

It was only a few moments more before Musichetta came up, another tray in her hands, and lay it on a table before jumping into the pile, only just missing Joly and Bossuet who pulled her in between them. 

It was the 5th June. There was no way they were going to spend it apart. Not now they’d all found each other. 

Grantaire remembered the years before he’d found them all. The first year, when he’d only just remembered, with horrible dreams and feelings of loss and fear. The way he hadn’t been able to hold someone’s hand for the fear of something bad happening. 

Until two years later, he’d run into Enjolras. The man had been giving a speech, of course. It was a local protest, to stop the government from closing a public library. Grantaire hadn’t meant to attend – he’d just wanted to return a book before the library closed, and he’d seen Enjolras and frozen, staring at the podium in shock. He’d stood there for over an hour, staring at Enjolras.  
When Enjolras had finished speaking, he’d looked at those standing there, seen Grantaire and frowned for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure who it was. Then he was running, running at Grantaire at full speed. Grantaire hadn’t had time to react before the other had pulled him into a hug. 

It had been three months later that Grantaire had met Bossuet and Joly.  
Sitting in a café, and not really paying attention to the people at the table next to his.  
“Nooo, you stole my food!” One of them cried, coming to sit down and seeing his friend with a muffin in his mouth.  
“That’s right, and there’s muffin you can do about it!” The muffin-thief had replied.  
Grantaire had snorted despite himself, and they’d turned to look at him. The muffin-thief dropped the muffin immediately.  
“Grantaire?” He’d asked in shock. Grantaire had looked up, only to find himself staring into the eyes of Bossuet.  
The three of them met Musichetta when she came out serve a different customer, and Bossuet and Joly had jumped to their feet. When she’d seen them, she’d burst into tears. 

Enjolras had already found Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Feuilly. He’d reintroduced Grantaire to them at his flat, and it had been as emotional as the other meetings but there was no surprise to it, just a relief to see more of his friends alive. 

Eponine and Cosette already knew each other this time, and Eponine had two siblings they’d never known about before, along with Azelma and Gavroche. Eponine had told him about when they’d remembered. It had been on a day they were male, just like the day they’d died. Cosette had found them, and remembered her own dreams about the life she’d lived before. Cosette hadn’t recognised Eponine at first, but eventually Eponine had explained, and Cosette had met the other Thernadier siblings and become close to all of them.

It had been Gavroche who’d found Marius, and he’d been kicked out again, just like the first time, and like the first time Courfeyrac was quick to offer him a room. Eponine met Bahorel, too, though neither of them had recognised the other at first. Not until Eponine introduced Cosette and Marius to him, and Marius had burst into tears before explaining.

The tradition had started slowly. Once finding each other, they’d realised that they all hated being alone on that day. Left to remember how their friends had died and suffered, they needed reassurance. It had been Musichetta who’d suggested they come to the café, where they spent enough time already. It was the biggest area for them all to spend time, and when Musichetta had inherited the café from her aunt, she’d renamed it the Musain, in honour of their past. 

The others hadn’t wanted to intrude on her day with Joly and Bossuet at first, but she’d insisted, and after the first time, it had stuck. 

They had to do something to remember it, after all. To remember how they’d fallen, how they’d failed. How the world had moved on without them. And now here they were again, still trying to bring about change, albeit a different one. Grantaire was still the cynic. The only one who seemed to doubt, to think that losing their lives once was by far enough.  
Now, he worried it would happen again. Yes, it was less likely these days. It wasn’t impossible. Every time they stood up for change he worried. Yet despite that, he stood with them. At most protests, he would stand with Enjolras, their hands linked together in comfort.  
Somehow, even after dying with their hands together, it felt right. 

Enjolras smiled at him from the bean bag beside him, pulling his attention back to the present.  
“It’s alright, Grantaire. We’re all here. Do you want to suggest a film?” 

Grantaire squeezed Enjolras’ hand, and pulled him closer, as if to remind himself that the revolutionary leader was still there.  
“I think Jehan was hoping for Brave,” Grantaire confided. “They’ll probably be suggesting it.”  
Sure enough, Jehan was holding out the DVD case for the pixar film, debating it’s benefits with Bahorel, who apparently wanted to watch…Wall-E. Well, both were good films.  
The only rule for this night was that it had to be relatively light-hearted. Nothing that could hit too close to home. For that reason, Disney and pixar tended to be the standard selections, though last year, they’d marathoned most of Friends. 

As the night wore on, the group pulled closer together, bean bags tight against each other, arms touching. Eponine and their siblings were hugging, Cosette holding her datemate’s hand even so.  
There was an odd sensation each of them felt, when it came to the moment on that night that they had died. It always happened to Eponine first, of course. They’d sorted out the response to this in the first year. 

As Eponine shuddered, starting to tremble, Cosette hugged them tightly, and everyone joined in, reaching out towards Eponine, reminding them that they weren’t alone. Gavroche was next, pulled into the centre of a hug even as tears ran down his face, as he stared at a wound that wasn’t there. It carried on, each of them being pulled into the centre of hugs, reminded that they were alive, their friends were alive, no one was hurt and everything was fine. Enjolras and Grantaire were the last, everyone crying and refusing to pull away. Not all those present had died on the barricade, no. But they’d all lost someone there, and the comfort was needed by everyone.

Grantaire hated the feeling. The shudder, the moment of pain and fear as he remembered exactly what had happened. His hand gripped Enjolras’ as tightly as he could as he gasped for breath, even as he could feel his friends reassuring warmth around him, whispering, promising everything was fine. 

The rest of the night was spent in much the same way. Comforting each other, reassurance that they were all alive, that none of them were hurt. Those who’d died together stayed close, and those who loved did the same. Musichetta lay in between her boys, their arms linked together as they talked quietly. Marius moved between them, not wanting to forget that his friends were alive now. This time, he hadn’t lost anyone. Cosette mostly stayed beside Eponine and their siblings.  
And Enjolras gripped Grantaire as tightly as Grantaire had gripped him. Neither of them would let go. 

Eventually, everyone would fall asleep. They stayed up talking, reminiscing, drinking, comforting themselves and each other. But no one could stay awake for ever. 

Grantaire woke to the feeling of someone lying on his leg, and someone else on his chest. He himself seemed to be sleeping on someone’s hand. He looked around. Bahorel was up already, and loading up the Nintendo Wii for a game of Mario Kart. Something was cooking, as well. He checked, just in case Musichetta had woken (after hosting them all for the night, there was an unspoken rule that she should not be the one to make breakfast), but no. She lay cuddling her boyfriends – and that was who was lying on his leg, Grantaire realised, as Bossuet moved. Wincing, Grantaire tried to pull himself free, lifting Enjolras off his chest. His boyfriend made a sad noise at being moved, and Grantaire smiled. He moved into a sitting position as Enjolras woke up. 

Slowly, everyone started to wake up, and join in the games or just talking. Those who wanted to took turns, until Courfeyrac brought in the food he’d made. Pancakes, waffles, croissants…there was a variety of foods that they could choose from.  
They spent the rest of the day together, recovering from their remembered grief, reassuring themselves that they were all there. The barricades had been almost two full centuries ago. There was no reason to fear them anymore. 

Grantaire looked around him, at the friends who once had lost their lives fighting for a better future – fighting for this future. It was far from perfect, but sometimes, he could see why they tried. After all, they had lived to be older in this world than they had in their first lives. Maybe the world had improved.  
As if he could tell what Grantaire was thinking, Enjolras appeared behind him, taking his hand and squeezing it before giving him a kiss on the cheek.  
“We’re all here, Grantaire.” He said quietly.  
Grantaire smiled. It might not stay that way, but for now, they were all safe. And that was all he needed.


End file.
